


Letting Go Is The Hardest Part

by CSM



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Angst, F/M, post 4x16
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-26
Updated: 2016-03-26
Packaged: 2018-05-29 08:01:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6365848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CSM/pseuds/CSM
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post 4x16 fic. There are things that we don't want to happen but have to accept, things we don't want to know but have to learn and people we can't live without but have to let go.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Letting Go Is The Hardest Part

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to my beta Denise for helping me with this and making sure the angst sticks till the end

She sits on her couch, her legs folded underneath her, a pint of mint chocolate chip ice cream resting on her bare skin. She can feel every drop of cold water running down her warm skin, chilling it in its wake. She runs her finger along the small trail of water, marveling at the feel of her nail grazing against her skin.

She’s done this a lot lately. 

She’ll sit with her bare legs in front of her just dancing her fingertips across her skin. Long after she's massaged her unused muscles, she’ll press her palm against her skin just to feel the heat. 

She’d press her bare feet against an old fleece blanket and wiggles toes into the worn material.  It's just over two weeks since Curtis’ chip started to work and she’s still surprise when she gets sensations along her previous dormant skin. 

Movement has come easier for her in that time, the hotel she was staying at had a gym and she utilized it as much as she could, even having more sessions with Paul than normal. 

Funny how life works, a few months ago she would have given anything to just walk, to move on her own, and now that she finally has that ability once again, it’s taking everything in her to just put one foot in front of the other.

She looks up at the silent television screen and groans when she sees the flashing headline  _ OLICITY’S SECRET WEDDING FOILED _ . She sees herself trailing behind Oliver, the wedding dress clasped in her hands both of them looking exhausted before she slams her finger on the remote switching off the television. She’d thought by now Star City would have something else to talk about.

She just wants to forget about this awful week, this awful month, if she’s being honest with herself. But despite moving into her new apartment, everything is a constant reminder of what she use to have.

Seeing herself walking in that dress takes her back to the time when all she wanted was her ability to walk again;  to be able to walk down the aisle to the man she loves with a promise of forever.

Instead, she got her wish to walk, but she was only seeing someone she barely recognized.

Okay, that’s unfair, Oliver hasn't changed he’s still the man she fell in love with, except that’s the problem.

Felicity releases a deep sob and leans back in defeat, her spoon clanging in the half filled pint of ice cream.  She sinks into the couch huffing softly at the firm material so unlike the couch back home...back at the loft.

Her new apartment is completely furnished with all her basic needs -- television, couch and a small coffee table. It's a nice one bedroom apartment that is only a block from Palmer Tech. She is subletting from a previous tenant for the time being. She could have bought her own place. A new place and furnish it to her liking, but she knows that buying a new place, committing to something like that would imply she and Oliver were completely over and despite what she told him,  _ she _ is not ready to let go yet.

She moved out of the hotel, she considers that an accomplishment on its own and she’s learned to take her victories where she can no matter how small they may be.

She looks at the small mountain of boxes that are littering the living room and sighs. She’s been here almost a week and yet all of her boxes remain in the exact same place the movers left them.  Much like committing to a year lease, removing her personal items from their boxes means that it's time to move on, and as of right now she just can't find it in her to do that. 

She feels a sharp jolt of pain along her thigh, and hisses in pain.  She is all too used to these random jolts and tremors; she presses her palms against her thigh massaging the sore muscles with practiced ease. 

Her small fingers can't quite wrap around her thigh the way Paul does or the way Oliver could, but she makes do and uses both hands to massage her tender flesh. She shifts to the edge of the couch and begins to flex and extend her knee as she massages and breathes through the pain with each breath she takes.

She looks down at her hands and pauses when she notices the thin line across her left ring finger, it's barely noticeable, after all she hasn't experienced a summer sun to leave a tan, but yet there on her finger is a constant reminded of what should have been there.

She almost didn't give Oliver the ring back after the fake wedding, almost kept it, but then even at the bottom of her purse it was burning a hole through her memories, taunting her with what could have been. 

It would have been so easy to just keep the ring, to forgive him. After all she almost lost her resolve  _ twice _ at the chapel but luckily the moment was lost when they were interrupted. 

She can't forgive him when she’s still filled with so much anger and so much pain, it wouldn't be fair to either of them. She can't forgive him if she doesn't mean it.  Part of her feels as though there isn’t anything to forgive, Oliver did not lie to her, he did not cheat, he chose to withhold information from her. Oliver chose to not include her in something as life altering as him having a  _ child _ . If he can keep things like that from her, what else is he not telling her? 

She just needs time, time to think, time to understand what her life has become and where she goes from there and she can't do that while Oliver is around. She can't think straight when Oliver’s around.

With the television turned off the small apartment sits in uncomfortable silence, there is no sizzling sound of food cooking, no soft chatter. Her apartment smells like pizza and Chinese rolled into one, instead of warm aromas of a home cooked meal. 

She misses the sound of soft grunts while Oliver does floor exercises off the living room. The soft crackling of the fireplace that makes the room glow and fills it with warmth. 

Most of all she misses the warm body which would be pressed against her, heating her from the inside out. For almost a year she has shared her space with another human being, the longest she has shared a place with someone who isn't her mother and she just misses the presence of another person being around.

She misses Oliver’s presence more than ever. 

Felicity shakes her head to clear her thoughts, it's her day off and she promised herself she would finally start unpacking, but instead she spent it devouring a few pints of ice cream while catching up on mindless television. The sharp pain running down her  _ other _ leg reminds her she forgot to do her daily exercises. 

She’s going to pay severely for that tonight. She pulls her wheelchair to her side maneuvering into it with ease as she presses down on her thigh muscles hoping to ease the pain.  She's just about to navigate to the fridge to get an ice pack when the doorbell rings and she spins around a piled of boxes with ease and moves towards the front door, hoping it's not her nosy neighbor Mrs. Brian again.

“Mrs. Brian, I really don't need any more zucchinis….” She trails off when she finally looks up to see it's  _ definitely _ not the little old lady in 4B. “Oliver!...what are you doing here…”

“Is something wrong?” Oliver asks in concern, his forehead wrinkling in confusions as he looks down at her.

Felicity tilts her head to the side to look at him, “Shouldn't I be asking you that? Is someone hurt?”

“What?” Oliver asks in equal confusion but then shakes his head and gestures to her chair. “No...are  _ you _ okay?”

“Oh this? Just a long day of unpacking and stuff…” Felicity trails off when she points to the small apartment which is still completely covered in boxes, unpacked boxes. 

She looks away sheepishly, not wanting to tell him she forgot to do her massages for the day. They both know that Oliver is in the dark when it comes to her newest routine since regaining use of her lower body.

“Not to be rude but what are you doing here?” She asks, her eyes closing when she realizes by voicing that she is basically stating that she  _ is _ being rude. She looks at the small box in Oliver’s hand only now noticing it for the first time.

“I found some computer chargers and cords in the extra room, I wasn't sure if you needed them.” Oliver says holding out the box awkwardly to her and not stepping over the threshold.

She hates this, she hates this awkwardness between them. In all the years that they have known each other things have never been  _ this _ bad. 

“Thanks.” She goes to grab the box but then doubles over in pain clutching her leg.

“Felicity!” Oliver calls out in surprise, the box dropping at his feet as he steps over it to crouch in front of her, both his hands grabbing the handlebars of her chair, “Talk to me!”

“It’s nothing.” Felicity hisses breathing through her mouth as she slowly sits up and begins to massage her upper thigh. “I'm still...I'm still adjusting to the sensations and movements.”

She takes a deep breath, her eyes still shut tight as she refuses to look at Oliver’s concerned expression and focuses on massaging the knot in her thigh. “Can you just put the box with the others? I'll get to it later. Thanks.”

“Felicity.” Oliver’s voice is soft but she can hear the pleading in his tone, she can practically feel the heat radiating off of him despite the fact that he’s not touching any part of her.

She slowly opens her eyes and sighs at his pained expression, “Oliver, I'm fine.”

“You’re not.”

“You’re right.” She says deciding it's a waste of time and effort to lie to him, she straightens her back and looks him in the eye, “but that’s not your problem anymore and…”

“Felicity, you were  _ never  _ a problem!” Oliver protests, clearly offended by her remark.

“I didn't mean it like that.” Felicity apologizes, her fingers pressing into her thigh trying to apply the right pressure but huffs in annoyance when she can't. “This is just something I have to deal with.”

The ‘on her own’ is understood, but neither of them acknowledge it. They stand (and sit) in uncomfortable silence for a brief moment before Felicity can’t take it anymore, she’s about to politely ask Oliver to leave, when Oliver beats her to it. “Let me help you.”

Felicity brow furrows in confusion as she looks around the small apartment, “Oliver, I don’t think it would be appropriate for you to help me unpack...Honestly, I didn’t think you’d  _ want _ …”

“No, no. Not that.” Oliver stutters shifting from one leg to the other uncomfortably, she can tell right away that he’s regretting opening his mouth, but to her surprise he pushes on through and gestures to her legs, “Your legs...I could...I know how much trouble you used to have with that….I can help you?”

His voice is soft and filled with uncertainty, but she can read his hopeful expression a mile away and she hates that she once again is going to be the reason for that broken look on his face, “Oliver,  _ that’s _ not appropriate. We can’t do this anymore.  _ I _ can’t do this anymore.”

“Felicity, you’re in pain.” Oliver points out gesturing to her hands which are balled into fist as she presses into her thighs, “Let me help you.”

“Oliver…”

“Look, your mom’s coming in tomorrow right?” Oliver interrupts the counter argument already on the tip of her tongue before she can protest. “Let me help you just for tonight. We both know from experience that if you don’t do the massages properly you’re only going to end up in more pain at the end of the night.”

He’s referring to the first night after they broke up, after seeing Paul about her walking, she promised him that she’d have Oliver to help her in case she experienced any pain from her muscles regenerating. She didn’t have the energy to explain to Paul that she and Oliver were no longer together and so she gathered her pride and went back to the loft. She mentioned nothing to Oliver but just parked up next to the couch and spent the day doing small exercises and just watching her toes wiggle on demand. 

She thought she had everything under control until she woke up screaming in pain and a sleepless Oliver came flying down the stairs spare bow in his hand ready for the next attack. She reluctantly allowed Oliver to help her. She refused the warm bath, but allowed him to massage her newly working muscles, both of them sitting in the most uncomfortable silence she had ever experienced. 

By the next day she was out of the loft and moved into her temporarily hotel room. She promised herself she would get through this miracle she was given, on her own, and she has been doing okay, on her own.

“Felicity, I can’t leave you here knowing you’re going to be in pain.” He’s pleading with her, slowly breaking her resolve once again. She’s about to decline his offer yet again, when her body betrays her and she feels a sharp twinge in her calf and she hiss once again.

She sighs in defeat and nods at Oliver, who only smiles in return. He quickly grabs the fallen box placing it on her other stack of boxes and then moves to close the front door. However, his victory is short lived when he slowly approaches her. He looks so eager to help her that she has to raise her hand to stop him before he comes any closer.

“This doesn’t change anything, Oliver.” She says firmly. She knows he’s not doing this just to get into her good books. She knows that this is genuinely who he is, always ready to help someone, especially her, but if by chance a part of him thinks that this is her offering him an olive branch, she can’t let him do this under that assumption.

Maybe she shouldn’t even ask him to help in the first place. This is a terrible idea. 

They shouldn’t be doing this, under any circumstances. She told herself she’ll figure out her new normal on her own, she can’t go back to relying on Oliver’s help, not like this.

“Oliver…”

“Remember when John stopped talking to me?” Oliver once against cuts her off before she can shut him down, “You told me that if he wants to forgive me, he’s going to need to let me  _ earn _ that forgiveness?”

“Oliver, it’s not the same.” She says brokenly, tired of the same argument. The pain in her thighs are a dull ache now, a mirror to the ache in her heart that been sitting on her chest since the moment she found out about Oliver’s son. “You broke John’s trust and had to earn it back. You’ve never lost my trust, you just refuse to trust  _ me _ . There is a difference.”

“I trust you with my  _ life.” _ Oliver pleads with her, moving so that he’s now crouching in front of her chair. “You have to let me show you that I mean it. You’ve always said words are  nothing, until there are actions to back it up. Let me show you that I meant what I said at the ceremony. How am I supposed to earn your forgiveness if you won’t let me apologize?”

Felicity shakes her head, exhaustion seeping in once again, “There is nothing for me to forgive. I’ve accepted this is just who you are and you’re always going to be that person. Your default is always going to be protect those you love no matter the consequences, and while your ability to love so openly is one of things I love about you, I can’t be with someone who doesn’t offer me the same in return. I can’t be with someone who won’t let  _ me _ love them just as openly, who doesn’t trust me. It’s like the Leauge all over again, instead of trusting John and I with your plan, you left us in the dark in order to protect us. A marriage is supposed to be about being equals, but yet you don’t trust  me enough or see me as your equal and it can’t work... _ we _ can’t work like that.”

She has more to say, so much more to say now that her anger isn’t bubbling at the surface and she’s had time to think about things, but the dull ache in her thighs intensifies and she is reminded why they started to have this heart to heart in the first place. She moans in pain yet again and hits legs with her fist a few times before she begins to massage it again.

“Felicity, let me just help you and I’ll go on my way.” Oliver pleads, watching as she kneads her bare flesh, “I know there is nothing I can do that will change your mind, but I can’t in good conscience leave you like this, in so much pain. You know I’d do anything for you, but don’t ask me to do that.” 

“I can’t.” Felicity shakes her head in the negative, her eyes filling with tears, both due to the pain in her legs and in her chest. “It’s too hard.”

“Felicity.” Oliver’s voice breaks, his hands resting tentatively on her thigh, before he slowly begins to massage it, easing away her physical pain.

“I can’t just have part of you.” Felicity confesses, her voice trembling, “It’s either all of you or none at all. I can’t have it any other way, I don’t know how to go back to the way things were before last summer. I don’t know if I even want to figure out what that was either. I don’t want to go back to a time when you weren’t in my life.”

“Then let’s never find out.” Oliver whispers.

He raises on the balls his feet his fingers pressing into her thighs, it’s not until she feels his hot breath against her skin does she realize what’s happening and in one quick movement she places her hand on his chest and pushes her chair away from him. 

“Oliver, I can’t.” 

He stumbles slightly, but she knows it’s due to her rejection and not the sudden movement, “Felicity…”

“I can’t do this right now.” Felicity shakes her head as her eyes begin to fill with tears and rolls back as far as the small room would allow, “You need to go.”

“But  your legs…”

“I’ll figure it out.” She concedes, wiping away her tears and finally looking him in the eye, “I’ve been okay these last two weeks on my own. I’ll figure it out.”

Oliver looks at her one last time, but instead of arguing like she expected he only nods and walks out the door without saying a word. It’s not until the door click shuts does she releases a soft sob in anguish. She slowly rolls towards the fridge pulling out the ice pack for her legs and she takes a deep breath to steady her racing heart and catch her breath.

She knows if he had stayed, if he had helped her things would have only been more confusing for them in the end and she could not allow that to happen. She has to do things on her own now, she has to learn how to be on her own again, and she can’t do that if she accepts Oliver’s help in a moment of weakness. It may be physical weakness, not but sooner rather than later it could be emotional weakness and she knows neither of them would be able to recover from that if they allowed it to happen.

  
If only the right thing didn’t hurt so much.


End file.
